


The More Things Change

by scarletsaber (sushibunny)



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Misaki Is A Terrible Packer, Post-Reconciliation, Rated For Misaki's Mouth Really, Saruhiko Can't Escape Work, Saruhiko Feels Things, Saruhiko Snarks, What Is This Feeling And Why Am I Feeling It: A Novel By Saruhiko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushibunny/pseuds/scarletsaber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misaki and Saruhiko are busy unpacking from their move into an apartment together.</p><p>Saruhiko wishes he was less busy sorting through Misaki's poorly packed junk.</p><p>Misaki wishes Saruhiko would lay off about his packing skills.</p><p>Saruhiko finds he doesn't wish Misaki would not lay on him (what?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More Things Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xoinks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoinks/gifts).



> The prompt was: Sarumi post reconciliation. First night after moving back in together. Things turn silly, and reminiscent. 
> 
> I really liked this prompt, it had so much potential! I hope I gave you enough silly to go with the feels :) Enjoy!

 

“Hey, hand me that box will you, Saru?”

Saruhiko raised his head from where he was seated on the floor, peering over the stacks of cardboard boxes surrounding him in search of the familiar mop of red hair. Finally spotting the source of the voice across the room near the kitchen, much closer to the box in question Misaki was gesturing blindly at, Saruhiko sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m a little busy right now, Misaki. Perhaps you could get it yourself instead of fooling around with useless things.”

“Hey! I’m sorting out the kitchen supplies, ya know! It’s important,” Misaki yelled back, turning his head as he waved a can of what Saruhiko assumed was a vegetable he would not be eating in the air for emphasis.

“Don’t need it.”

“Why you-!” Misaki began before he clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth as he shot Saruhiko a glare instead of rising to the obvious bait, if the smirk crossing the other’s lips was any indication. He took a calming breath before continuing, “Anyway, if anyone’s ‘fooling around,’ it’s you! What are you even doing over there, building a fort?”

Saruhiko rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in irritation. “I was trying to determine what boxes belonged where, since someone decided not to label his in an apparent urge to be as inefficient as humanly possible-”

“Hey!”

“-before I was interrupted with work emails that required my attention.”

The indignant look on Misaki’s face was replaced with a frown. “You have the weekend off, why are you doing work for the Blues?”

“Because apparently Domyouji can’t be trusted to not spectacularly mess up simple tasks without constant supervision,” Saruhiko answered, scowling down at the PDA in his lap. “I’m surprised he manages to get dressed without setting himself on fire every morning,” he muttered to himself, suddenly becoming lost in the daydream of the most troublesome member of his unit being out of duty due to his own incompetence for a few blissful days. Though his joy was short lived as he realized the incident would inevitably cause Saruhiko himself more paperwork anyway, knowing Domyouji.

“You sure are important over there, huh?” Misaki asked, breaking through Saruhiko’s musings.

Saruhiko looked up in surprise at hearing the words said in such an honest tone. It wasn’t so long ago that Misaki would have gone off on a rant about how useless Scepter 4 was and derided him for ever joining them. _Guess things really have changed, huh?_ he thought to himself. He did his best to quell the familiar feeling of uncertainty and anxiety rising within him that still seemed to crop up when he found himself falling back into pre-HOMRA types of situations with Misaki; situations filled with pleasant camaraderie as opposed to forced antagonism. _It’s fine though, things are better now. It won't change again, I won't let it._

The thought was still less reassuring than he hoped it would be.

Misaki seemed to realize what he had just said, a blush suddenly creeping across his face. “Eh- I mean- it’s just that you always seem so busy with work, right? Like the place might fall apart if you weren’t there,” he joked, laughing awkwardly.

“It might,” Saruhiko muttered, glaring down at his PDA as he was reminded of Akiyama’s email about _someone_ accidentally shorting out half the computers in the office that morning.

“A-anyway, come give me a hand, will ya, Saru? I can’t seem to find where I packed the pots and pans, and I’d like to get at least the kitchen set up before bed,” Misaki continued, standing up and moving towards a precariously tilting stack of boxes.

“Tch, fine,” Saruhiko sighed, pushing himself to his feet and pocketing the PDA as he made his way around the ridiculous amount of boxes towards Misaki. He didn’t remember Misaki being such a packrat before, but he guessed people did change. He wasn’t sure if that thought should be bitter or sweet at that point.

As Saruhiko watched Misaki scrutinize the pile, he contemplated how exactly they had found themselves in their current situation. After defeating <jungle> he hadn’t really been sure what their relationship would turn into; they had both changed so much since they parted ways in HOMRA. But somehow things between them had fallen back into sync fairly quickly after, almost as if nothing had changed. No, that wasn’t quite right; their relationship was better now than before. It was as if they now shared a deeper understanding of each other, which Saruhiko supposed they did, even though the thought of someone knowing him so well still sometimes felt like an internal itch he couldn’t scratch. He was so used to hiding parts of himself, even from Misaki, even from himself, that for someone to have uncovered them left him feeling raw and exposed. Yet it was also a relief, knowing that Misaki had seen those parts of him, those secret pieces that even Saruhiko hadn’t always understood himself, and he accepted them. He accepted Saruhiko.

So he guessed it wasn’t really a surprise when Misaki brought up the idea of moving back in together. Misaki had tried to make it sound practical, splitting the rent would be cheaper in the long run, and Saruhiko was always complaining about the dorms, wasn’t he, so it’d be better for him too, right? Plus this way Misaki could be sure Saru was eating properly and getting enough rest. Even with what Saruhiko could tell was a thoroughly practiced speech, he could still see the gleam of excitement in Misaki’s eyes and the hope in his voice as he asked if Saru would consider it.

Finding it difficult to deny Misaki anything, especially with memories of nights spent gaming and talking for hours on end running through his mind, Saruhiko had eventually agreed; after drawing it out a little for his own amusement, of course. And so he found himself standing in their new apartment, in the midst of unpacking an absurd amount of boxes, most of which were unlabeled, ready to start a new chapter in his life, _their_ lives.

...Found himself watching as Misaki tried to wrestle out a box from the middle of the stack and promptly caused the whole tower to collapse onto himself.

“Ow…”

Saruhiko let out a long suffering sigh as he bent down to dig his friend out of the mess that was now strewn all over the floor, boxes having spilled open in the fall. “Defeated by a cardboard box, Misaki? What would your King say about that?”

“Shut up, stupid monkey,” Misaki grumbled, pushing a pile of pants and socks off his lap and grabbing one of the missing pots in muted triumph.

Saruhiko absently picked up a can from the mess in front of him, feeling an odd wave of nostalgia when he noted it was canned pineapple rings. “Still adding pineapple to everything, eh Misaki?”

“Hah? O-oh, uh, yeah I guess,” Misaki mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But it’s okay, you still like it, right?” he asked, peering up at Saruhiko questioningly with what could have been hope in his eyes.

Saruhiko’s eyes darted to the side, trying to ignore the thought that Misaki’s look of hope was probably because he was searching for something familiar to latch onto, something that would tell him that some things hadn’t changed, that parts of the old Saruhiko were still there. _Idiot_.

“It’s fine.” he muttered, doing his best not to notice the way Misaki’s face lit up at the admission.

“Great! How about I make us some pineapple fried rice for dinner later?” Misaki asked, grinning widely.

Saruhiko turned away as he felt his face heating up. “Do what you want.”

Misaki chuckled as Saruhiko busied himself with opening the next box, finding more sweatshirts along with some magazines, a baseball, and a spatular. “Tch, honestly, Misaki, did you pack in the dark?”

He was pleased to note the tinge of pink on Misaki’s cheeks when Saruhiko turned to face him again with a raised brow, tilting the box so Misaki could see its haphazard contents.

“W-well, some of us have better things to do besides waste all our time packing!” Misaki said defensively, scowling at Saruhiko, who merely raised an eyebrow in reply.

“Really,” Saruhiko drawled, crossing his arms over his chest after he set down the box. “Like what? Hanging out in a bar with a bunch of hoodlums?”

“Hey!” Misaki cried, looking like he was about to go on an all-too-familiar rant defending HOMRA’s honor before he reminded himself that he didn’t need to do that with Saruhiko anymore, that they had moved past that sort of thing. He took a deep breath before continuing in a more neutral tone. “I have a part time job at that ramen place, ya know. I don’t just spend all my time at the bar. And when I am there I’m usually helping to look after Anna.”

Saruhiko blinked for a few moments, surprised at the lack of defensively spat words. He was amazed that Misaki hadn’t fallen back into old habits when the old insult had fallen reflexively from his tongue. Not that he didn’t think the lot of the remnants of the Red Clan were for the most part jobless miscreants, but he had been getting better about not pointing that out for Misaki’s sake ever since they had reconciled. Apparently he still had a while to go, he noted, particularly embarrassed that _Misaki_ had managed to remain civil better than he had.

“Well, some of us have full time work, plus overtime, and still managed to pack as if we hadn’t been blindfolded with a hand tied behind our backs,” Saruhiko finally replied after clearing his throat, pleased when a furrowed brow replaced the awkward look Misaki had been wearing.

“Shut up you damn monkey,” Misaki growled, though there was a playful edge to his tone that told Saruhiko that Misaki didn’t hold the previous slip up against him.

“Seems your insults are the same as ever Mi-sa-ki~” Saruhiko said with a smirk, one that was more fond and less manic than the ones he had employed during their encounters in the past few years. “How disappointing.”

“Bastard!” Misaki shouted, throwing a balled up pair of socks at Saruhiko’s head, which was expertly dodged.

“You’re not saying anything to change my mind~” Saruhiko practically sang, grabbing a pillow from the mess on the floor and whacking Misaki in the head before releasing it from his grip and finding cover behind a nearby stack of boxes.

Misaki stared at him wide eyed and incredulous for a moment before his lips curled into a challenging grin, scooping the abandoned pillow up into his hands. “You’re in for it now, Saru!”

“Bring it, Mi~sa~ki~”

The next half hour was spent chasing each other around the small apartment, flinging any softish item within reach that could be used as a projectile at each other, laughing and goading the other on as they ran and hid. Of course, this resulted in the apartment quickly taking on the appearance of a war zone, belongings strewn about, boxes tipped over and spilling their contents onto the floor. Neither seemed to mind, though, as they continued their game, faces red and smiling from exertion and enjoyment.

The chase would likely have gone on longer had Misaki not tripped on his bat, suddenly losing his balance and hurtling forward into Saruhiko, sending both to the ground in a heap. When Saruhiko finally regained his breath he looked up, prepared to berate Misaki for his poor agility when he suddenly found it difficult to breathe again.

Misaki was sprawled across his chest, face bright red, though Saruhiko wasn’t sure of the source of color anymore, wide amber eyes looking at him in surprise from less than a hand’s width from Saruhiko’s face. He was expecting Misaki to laugh, to stutter an embarrassed apology, to immediately roll off of him. He did not expect Misaki to remain frozen on top of him, staring into his eyes while an indecipherable mix of emotions swirled within Misaki’s own.

Saruhiko’s gaze was drawn down as Misaki bit his lower lip, the completely random desire to know what it would feel like for Misaki to do that to him hitting Saruhiko like a ton of bricks and he felt his own face heat up to most likely match Misaki’s in shade.

Just as suddenly as the heated moment between them began, the spell was broken by something metallic falling to the floor, the sharp sound jolting them both back to reality, Misaki jerking back and off of Saruhiko who found himself immediately missing Misaki’s warmth. Saruhiko slowly raised himself up into a sitting position, keeping his eyes averted from Misaki as he slowly massaged the elbow that had struck the ground when he had fallen, the pain only then making itself known.

“Uh, are y-you okay?” Misaki asked quietly, his own eyes focusing on a wayward tangerine near his knee.

Saruhiko’s eyes trailed over to Misaki, taking a moment to take him in. Misaki looked incredibly awkward, hand rubbing restlessly at the back of his neck, which was just as red as his face, mouth and brows tilted down into a worried frown. Worried, that was the word to describe Misaki at that moment. _But what exactly is he worried about_ , that was the question on Saruhiko’s mind. Deciding to take the time to thoroughly think over the situation later, Saruhiko pushed all the possible implications out of his mind for the moment.

Saruhiko took a deep breath as he calculated his options. Clearly confronting Misaki about whatever _that_ was was a poor idea, especially since Saruhiko had no idea himself, and it was never a good idea to go into a situation without a plan. His other options were to brush it off or mock Misaki for it, and surprisingly neither really appealed to him. Because they would mean Misaki would never let something like that happen again, and Saruhiko wasn’t sure he wanted that. _Tch, things were so much easier when I could pretend I didn’t care._ But maybe a combination of the two would do the trick…

“I’d be better if someone learned how to walk properly,” he said teasingly, watching Misaki intently for his reaction.

“Wha-?” Misaki whipped his head up to look at Saruhiko in disbelief, searching his face for something Saruhiko wasn’t sure of. When he found a small, gentle smile and blue eyes that weren’t closed off, an answering smile tentatively formed on his own lips. “I can walk just fine, ya know! You’re the one who made the mess that caused me to trip!” he accused, the mood light again.

Saruhiko raised an eyebrow in question. “How do you figure?” he asked, gesturing at the chaos around them.

“Well, you started it, didn’t you? You threw a pillow at me!”

“... You threw the socks first. Misaki started it.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s your fault I had to throw them, for being so insufferable!”

“Oh~ where did you learn such a big word, Misaki~? Are you sure you know what it means, or did you just get lucky?”

“You bastard! You wanna go again?!”

Saruhiko couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his mouth then, truly enjoying the easy back and forth he always managed to fall into with Misaki. How he had missed this during their time apart. Misaki looked at him in surprise for a moment before he grinned, laughing along with Saruhiko for a minute.

“You’re really something, ya know?” Misaki finally said with a wide smile, shaking his head in slight exasperation.

“Would you have me any other way?” Saruhiko teased, smirking back.

Misaki regarded him for a moment, tilting his head in thought before answering. “Nope,” he said with such surety that Saruhiko was stunned. He hadn’t realized how important the answer to his flippant question was until Misaki gave it, the answer filling him with a strange warmth that was reminiscent of the feeling he had when Misaki was laying on top of him earlier.

Before he could delve further into his thoughts, Saruhiko found himself staring at Misaki’s proffered hand, a gentle smile on Misaki’s face as he offered to help Saruhiko stand. With only a slight hesitance Saruhiko took it, allowing himself to be hauled off the floor, Misaki’s hand lingering in his for a moment longer than necessary before Misaki moved to sort through the disarray they had caused during their earlier game.

“Come on, let’s try and at least clear off the floor before dinner,” Misaki suggested, pulling all the discarded articles of clothing he could find into his arms.

Saruhiko hummed in agreement, bending to grab a box but was stunned into silence when he noticed that underneath the box currently in his hands was not another box, but a table. A kotatsu, to be exact.

“Hey, are you gonna do something with that or what?”

He was brought out of his stupor at the sound of Misaki’s voice, slowly turning to face Misaki, his grip tightening on the box in his arms. “Is that…?” he asked, voice soft and hesitant, sounding out of place to his own ears.

Misaki gave him a questioning look before his eyes trailed down, head tilting to get a better view of whatever Saruhiko was currently staring intently at. “Oh, yeah, that’s our old kotatsu!” he chirped, grinning broadly up at Saruhiko.

 _‘Our_ . _’ And he says that without hesitation_ , Saruhiko thought in disbelief, tearing his eyes from the old wooden table to meet Misaki’s amber ones. “You kept it?” he asked slowly, ignoring the strange tightness he suddenly felt in his chest.

Misaki gave him a confused look, as if his question was ridiculous. “Well, yeah. It still works, right? Why would I throw it away?”

 _Because I was the one who fixed it. Because we used to share it together. Because I_ left _._

“You did a really great job fixing it up, Saru,” Misaki continued, seemingly oblivious of Saruhiko’s heavy thoughts. “I’m kinda surprised it’s still working okay after all this time. But hey, if it ever breaks again, you’ll be here to fix it, right?”

Saruhiko could only blink in shock at the blinding grin Misaki shot him, as if he completely believed every word he was saying. _He probably does. Idiot._ “Right,” he allowed himself to murmur, heart beating rapidly against his ribs as Misaki’s smile turned impossibly brighter at his response, eyes scrunched shut and white teeth on full display.

“Just try not to break it in your recklessness,” Saruhiko felt obligated to add, anything to dispel the feelings he didn’t want to think about currently radiating through his chest.

“Hey! Who are you calling reckless?!” Misaki demanded, smile turning into a more familiar scowl, and Saruhiko felt his heartbeat decrease in relief. “I managed to keep it just fine all these years, didn’t I?”

The sharp pang through his heart at the reminder of their time apart was a less foreign feeling to him, an almost welcome one. But no, he had to remind himself that those weren’t feelings he needed from Misaki anymore, not when he could have the ones that made his breath catch and his skin tingle, ones like from before on the floor...

“I suppose even an idiot can do something right sometimes,” he muttered in response, attempting to skirt the topic of his absence.

Instead of the string of shouted insults he expected, however, Saruhiko found himself suddenly in the dark, a weight settling on his head. Confused, he reached up, grasping ahold of what was apparently fabric and pulling the offending item off. His brow furrowed in confusion when he found a red apron clutched in his fist. He became even further perplexed when peals of laughter echoed around the room, a quick glance at Misaki revealing the redhead clutching his stomach as he laughed heartily, almost falling over in his amusement.

“You should see yer face, Saru!” Misaki cackled, pointing at Saruhiko as he continued to laugh. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I want to shut you up!”

Saruhiko looked away, clicking his tongue as he felt his cheeks heat up in response, though he couldn’t help the twitch at the corner of his lips as he watched Misaki wipe a few tears from his eyes.

Whatever barb Saruhiko was preparing to sling dissolved on his tongue as a loud grumble echoed from Misaki’s stomach, reminding Saruhiko that it was already getting late and they had been unpacking for the better part of the day without eating.

Misaki looked up at him, red faced and embarrassed. “Sorry, guess I’m hungry,” he said sheepishly.

Saruhiko just shrugged, beginning to feel the telltale signs of his own hunger now that it was brought to his attention. “Weren’t you going to make us rice?”

Misaki instantly brightened, giving him a smile. “Yeah! I’ll get started on that then! I think I saw the rice cooker over there…”

Saruhiko bent down to continue sorting while Misaki wandered off to search for dinner ingredients. He was in the process of folding the pile of clothes Misaki had gathered when he heard his name called from the kitchen.

“Hey, Saru? Why don’t you go down and make sure the mailbox key works while I’m cooking?”

Saruhiko narrowed his eyes. “Why would I do that now? It’s late.”

Misaki appeared in the doorway, holding a small silver key in his fingers. “Well, the landlady wasn’t sure if this one was for our box or not, so I promised we’d test it out as soon as we could.”

“Tch, how troublesome,” Saruhiko murmured, though he grabbed the key from Misaki anyway, doing his best to ignore the warmth that lingered in his fingertips after they had brushed against Misaki’s.

“Thanks, Saru!” Misaki called as he turned back into the kitchen with a smile.

It didn’t take long for Saruhiko to walk the two flights down to the lobby where the mailboxes were, though it was still an unnecessary annoyance in his opinion. A smile appeared unbidden as he found their mailbox, a slip reading ‘ _Fushimi/Yata_ ’ already in the name slot. He tried the key, pleased it turned properly so he wouldn’t have to deal with their apparently scatterbrained landlady to find the appropriate one.

He was less pleased when he opened the box to find three envelops with the Scepter 4 seal already inside waiting for him. _Seriously?_ Saruhiko wondered if he could pretend that the key was wrong after all, but somehow he knew Munakata would know.

“At least he won’t be dropping by unannounced for tea and puzzles like in the dorms,” Saruhiko muttered to himself but froze suddenly at the thought. _He wouldn’t, right? No, he would, he definitely would._ Saruhiko would have to remind Misaki to always look through the peephole before answering the door, not that that would really stop his determined King. The thought of watching Misaki trying not to explode while the Blue King wandered around their apartment like he owned the place brought a smirk to Saruhiko's lips before he realized the aftermath of dealing with a pissed off Misaki once Munakata was gone wouldn't be worth the initial amusement.

Making a mental note to research the building's blueprints for quick escape routes and places to hide surveillance cameras, Saruhiko reluctantly grabbed the mail and locked the box before heading back up to their apartment.

“It works fine,” he called out as he closed the door behind him, kicking off his shoes.

“Awesome!” Misaki yelled back from the kitchen, sounding much too excited about a mailbox key in Saruhiko’s opinion.

Before Saruhiko could respond he heard Misaki call him again.

“Hey, Saru...” Misaki said in a much softer voice, head poking out of the kitchen. “Welcome home.“ he said with a bright smile and slightly pink cheeks before he turned back to finish cooking dinner.

Saruhiko’s mouth dropped open in momentary surprise before his lips curled into a soft smile, eyes closing as that increasingly familiar warm feeling spread out from his chest. “... I'm home.”


End file.
